Another round of jeers and cheers from the pilots playing cards, another quiet grumble from Atalyah. He had the bright idea to try and sneak in an extra half an hours sleep atop two of the crates, with a peak hat sat over his eyes and one leg hanging off one side, which has gone about as well as you might think. Admitting his defeat, he lifted a gloved hand up to his hat to swat it down to the floor before hefting himself back up to sitting.
[b]"Finally gave up?"[/b] asked a familiar voice to his left: one of the other pilots in 12[sup]th[/sup] Squadron.
[b]"Surely cards can't be that exciting..."[/b] answered Atalyah as he rubbed a bit of life back into his eyes. The two shared a quiet, brief laugh, both of them knowing full well that cards was almost always that exciting.

Unzipping one of the leg pockets on his flight suit, Atalyah took a datapad into hand. After giving it a moment to turn in, he tapped in his login details and flicked over to read the news.
[b]"Update: peace talks continue, no sign of progress yet."[/b] he read out loud, flicking over to the title of the next article as he did: [b]"What can go wrong? A summary of history's worst peace treaties-"[/b] letting out a scoff, Atalyah pressed a button at the base of the datapad to close the window. [b]"What rubbish..."[/b] he grumbled, as he swatted over towards his mailbox. 

With a stiff expression, Atalyah found nothing of interest in his mailbox. That was precisely the problem: he'd written to his children four days ago, answering a few questions for a school project about the peace talks, yet still had no reply. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he pressed out of it and went back to flicking through news articles, occasionally tapping into one that caught his interest. Occasionally, he'd sneak a glance towards the mechanics or the secret service pilots, ultimately not paying them a whole lot of mind but still at least half as curious as some of the others in the squadron.